


Tales from National Geographic

by supplyship



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Comment Fic, F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-02
Updated: 2011-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-15 07:57:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supplyship/pseuds/supplyship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Comment fic based on <a href="http://ziparumpazoo.livejournal.com/61684.html">this post</a> by ziparumpazoo and the August 2010 edition of National Geographic. It probably throws anyone in the SGC when they see the word "Stargate" in mass media. Set post-series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tales from National Geographic

6:00 PM Friday evening, Jack slid the key into his Arlington brownstone and mentally congratulated himself on remembering to lock his front door every morning that week. He pushed the door open, juggling briefcase, keys, coffee tumbler, and workout bag (Carter was nagging again about "spare tires" so he'd been grudgingly spending lunch hours at the Pentagon gym), and dumped everything just inside the door before leaning back out to grab the mail from the post box. He thumbed through the mail as he closed the door with his foot and wandered into the kitchen. Junk mail, catalog, post card from Lorne and Sheppard from Afghanistan (dumb kids were trying to rescue some of their Atlantis Marines who got redeployed once the city came to Earth), catalog, 'nother catalog, hey! new National Geographic!

Jack snagged this and the postcard, as well as a beer from the fridge, and wandered out to his patio to enjoy the summer evening. Friday night, and he had nothing to do, nothing scheduled for the entire weekend. Bliss. And if he was really lucky, at some point Carter would beam herself down from the orbiting _General Hammond_ \- naked, hopefully - into his bed.

He settled into a patio chair, flicked the bottle cap off into the neighbor's yard, and read the back of the postcard. _"Dear General O'Neill, the sand sucks as much as you promised it would. But thanks for pulling strings and making our search a little easier. We'll bring you back a jingle truck." -Lorne and Sheppard_

Heh, knowing them - or more accurately, their Marines - he wouldn't put it past them. He set the postcard aside and began flipping through the National Geographic.

 _Valley of the Whales - The origins of marine mammal life lie buried in Egyptian sand?_ read one article headline.

"Hmm," he muttered. "Wonder if Daniel ever found a whale in Egypt?"

He flipped on to the cover article, where the first words shocked him into nearly dropping the magazine. _"We sink into Stargate..."_

Just then, a flash of light caught his eye, and Carter stepped out the back door to the patio. Clothed, dammit.

"Hey," she greeted brightly, but her megawatt smile dimmed after catching the expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

He glanced down to the magazine and back up at her. "Uh, has someone let a National Geographic reporter go offworld without me knowing?"

Her face scrunched up adorably at the thought. "I hardly think so, Jack. The program's still undercover, for the most part."

He harrumphed and turned the magazine towards her approaching form. "Look at this! 'We sink into Stargate!' This looks pretty damn alien to me!"

She plucked the magazine from his hands and settled herself on his lap. "Jack, it's an article on anchialine and submarine caves in Bermuda, and while unexplored and alien to most people on Earth, they aren't _alien_ alien."

"Fine, but why are they calling it 'Stargate'? How the heck did they get that term?" he grumped. Sam wiggled in his lap, settling herself more fully against him as she scanned the article, and suddenly, Jack did Not. Care. Anymore. about caves and offworld photographers. He snatched the magazine back, ignoring her startled "Hey!" and flung it over his shoulder.

Wrapping his arms tight around her and burying his face in her neck, he declared "Whatever it is, it can wait until Monday. I have more important things to do."

She wiggled her butt against him again and her dreamy sigh told him she was in perfect agreement. Then she turned her head to him so he could whisper "Welcome home" against her lips.


End file.
